


tear you to pieces

by thetruthmayvary



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:08:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetruthmayvary/pseuds/thetruthmayvary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis broke Harry's heart once and Harry thinks it's time to return the favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tear you to pieces

“I have to say, you surprised me, mate,” Niall announced while he and Harry enjoyed a midnight snack on their tour-bus, somewhere in northern Florida.

“Surprised you with what?”

“Getting back together with Louis,” Niall said, and then quickly added “not that I’m complaining - you now I’ve always routed for you two, I just didn’t thought you’d give in so fast.”

Well of course he was talking about Louis, Harry should have known straight away  - all of the lads seemed to be having trouble finding something to talk to him about other than him and their reconciliation.

“Well, you know me, I forgive quickly,” Harry said and hoped that that would be the end of it. 

Niall laughed, “I  _do_  know you, that’s why I know that you  _do not_  forgive quickly. When Louis left you for Eleanor, you refused to speak to him for three months – I honestly thought the band was going to fall apart.”

“Well it didn’t, did it? We’re fine, and Lou and I are fine, so just let it go, OK?” Harry realized his tone was a little too defensive when it was too late – Niall was already looking at him suspiciously. Luckily it didn’t last long, as Niall was never the one to get himself too involved in  someone else’s business.

Harry stuffed another mini donut to his mouth and then murmured incoherently how he’s going to go and catch a few hours of sleep before they arrive. Niall wished him a good night but made no move to get up himself and move further away from all the delicious food the two of them had laid down on the table.

The green-eyed boy headed towards the bunk beds and settled himself in the one just above Louis’. He could hear his hard breathing, and he found himself grateful that the beds on the bus were too small to fit two, otherwise he would have to been down there, feeling those warm breaths on his neck. 

It took him some time to fall asleep, his mind filling with painful scenes and spiteful words, but he didn’t try to shut them out - they were feeding his motivation and insuring that he has enough strength to do what he thought he must. 

When he finally fell asleep, he felt like it’s been only a minute until he was being gently awaken and told that they’ve arrived to Orlando. He felt soft lips against his own, still slightly parted ones, and since he wasn’t awake enough to push the sensation that ran through him away, for once he embraced it, which he definitely regretted later. 

- 

The sun has just started to come out when they settled in their hotel. Harry went to bed immediately, Paul’s warning that they need to be up and ready in two hours still ringing in his head. Only when he felt painfully familiar limps wrap around him was he reminded that the hotel beds  _were_  big enough to fit two. Louis didn’t say anything, he just spooned him and murmured quietly in satisfaction. Harry was too tired to try and not feel what he knew he shouldn’t have, so for a second time that morning he broke a promise he made to himself.

Two too short hours later, the boys were seated in a car, headed to their first Orlando interview. Niall, Zayn and Harry were still yawning, Liam was talking on the phone to Danielle, his voice still rough from sleep, but Louis was perfectly awake and almost bouncing up and down with energy. Harry found it painful to look at him, and not only because of his sleep deprived state. They barely spoke during the short trip, even though Louis kept trying to spark out conversation. 

The interview they were set up for was a live radio one, with two enthusiastic and pretty funny hosts. The boys were almost as grateful that they haven’t recycled all the same questions they were usually asked, as they were that there was coffee waiting for them when they got there. 

Despite the interesting and cheerful nature of the interview, the question about Louis’s break up with Eleanor still didn’t fail to come up. Louis said the same thing he always did, the same thing everybody does - it was a mutual decision and they were going to remain friends. But that was, of course, a total lie.

Harry, as usual, felt the urge to tell the interviewers the exact reason Louis and Eleanor broke up, but one look at Niall, Zayn and Liam reminded him why he shouldn’t do that.

That interview was followed by two more, then a much awaited lunch break and a sound check for that night’s concert. For the first time, Harry actually appreciated their hectic schedule – it left them with almost no time in which he had to pretend to be a loving boyfriend (although that was a much easier task that he’d like to admit).

At nights, of course, he didn’t have the same excuse, and “I’m too tired” could only be used a certain amount of times, after all, he didn’t want Louis to suspect anything. So he tried to convince himself that it was “just sex”, and that the goose bumps the other boy’s fingers would leave where ever they touched him or the fireworks that would explode inside of him as he would settle himself deep within Louis didn’t mean a thing.

They had a free day after the concert, and since most of them have already been to Universal studios during their last tour, this time they’ve decided to visit Epcot at the Disney World Resort.

They went on all of the rides together, but when they came to the World showcase, they separated, Louis dragging his boyfriend away from the other boys. They walked passed Canada, then United Kingdom (which caused a big wave a homesickness to wash over them) and when they’ve reached France, the older boy announced that it would be nice if they had something to eat there, after all, which country could be more romantic?

Harry suddenly felt a strong desire to punch him in the face and remind him of the last time they were in the  _real_  France together. It’s been two months since Louis decided to end what they had, and turn the cover up relationship into a real one and Harry was still giving him the silent treatment. But he did not need to talk to him for his heart to feel like a blade after blade was being pierce through it - he was in Paris on Valentine’s day with the boy he loved more then anything, but who didn’t love him back 

Somehow, he still managed to compose himself and pretend like having a dinner there is a great idea. They found a table at Les Chefs de France, a secluded one, to make their hiding out a little bit easier.

“This is nice,” Louis said, once they had their pick from the menu. “We haven’t have dinner alone in ages”.

“Yeah, it’s hard to find time for dates when you’re on tour,” Harry responded, not sounding disturbed by their lack of free time at all.

“Can you imagine how nice it will be when we get back home?” Louis’s grin was so wide that Harry almost wished to cancel all his plans that would ruin the prospect of “them” back at London.  _Almost._

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, trying to match his grin, but not looking up – he was far too aware of how bad his acting skills were to try and lie directly into the other boy’s blue eyes.

“We need to move back in together as soon as we get back. I miss your cooking.”

“Is that all you miss?” Harry asked with a smirk.

“Of course not,” Louis said, and Harry smiled with satisfaction, until Louis added “I need someone to do my laundry, too.”

Harry laughed, but Louis only let a small smile creep on his lips, until he put on a serious face and lowered his voice. “I’m sorry, Haz,” he said suddenly, “I’m sorry for my bad calls, I know I already said that but I need you to know that I really mean it. If I could go back in time, I would do it all differently.”

Harry stopped laughing as soon as he heard the words “I’m sorry”. Yes, Louis had said them before, but he had no business saying them at all – they didn’t change a thing. And “bad calls”? Is that what breaking his heart was to him? A “ _bad call_ ”? And he would do it differently? How easy was it to say something like that when they were just empty words? It’s not like time-travelling actually existed.

“You don’t need to keep apologizing Lou, that’s in the past now.” The words pained Harry immensely, even though they weren’t exactly lies – Louis really didn’t need to keep apologizing, because apologies meant  _nothing_  to him, and it really was in the past – there’s nothing he could do to change it.

The Doncaster boy just smiled, obviously content with Harry’s response.

When they finished their dinner, they walked the rest of the way through the World showcase, and then met up with the lads.

-

The next morning they drove to Tampa and during the short drive Liam pulled Harry to the side, out of the earshot of other occupants of the bus.

“Are you alright?” he asked him, his features soft and eyes glowing with genuine concern.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Louis said you seemed a bit…off, lately,” Liam explained. “And I have to agree with him.”

 _Shit_ , Harry thought, and here he was, thinking he was doing a great job pretending that everything was just peachy.

“I’m fine,” Harry reassured, though his voice quivered slightly and probably gave him away. “I don’t know why he would… think that.”

“Are you still mad at him? I mean, I know you said you weren’t, but it would be perfectly reasonable-“

“I’m not mad. I’m fine,” he repeated, slowly losing his patience.

“You could ask him for some time, you know, I’m sure he would understand. Considering.”

Harry snorted,  _considering,_  he thought,  _yeah considering /he/ gave /him/ a /lot/ of time, which he used very practically, very practically indeed, screwing Eleanor’s brains out._

“I don’t need any time,” Harry said, pretending like it was merely that suggestion that caused such a reaction in him. “I’m fine,” he said for the third time.

Liam glared at him, obviously not convinced. “Ok”, he finally said, “but if you need someone to talk to, I’m always here.”

“Thanks, Li, I’ll keep it in mind,” Harry told him, clapping his back in gratitude, before heading for the other end of the bus, before his brown-eyed friend managed to get him to spill his secret out.

He made a decision to put on a better performance, and mentally slapped himself for wincing when Louis told him he loved him yesterday. He was convinced that that was the act that made the other boy describe him as a “bit off lately”.

-

Their first day at Tampa was filled with interviews, but they did get the evening off, so they couldn’t complain too much. Harry and Louis retreated to their room pretty early, but when the older boy fell asleep, Harry snuck out. He was exhausted from all the feelings he had to repress that evening and desperately in need of a drink, so he went to Zayn’s room, and convinced him that going to the hotel bar was a great idea.

The bar was pretty much empty, which suited the curly-haired boy because he wanted to drink in peace. Zayn wanted to start slowly, ordering himself a beer, but Harry cut him off and ordered vodka shots for both of them. Zayn just shrugged and went with it, figuring that if his band-mate wanted to get drunk, then drunk they shall get.

Somewhere after their 7th shot, in between which they threw in a couple of cocktails, because Zayn “doesn’t care they’re for girls ‘cause they taste like fucking rainbows”, they decided they should have an honesty hour.

Zayn started by asking Harry if he preferred fucking guys or girls, which Harry answered with a simple “ I love penis”, which had Zayn rolling his head back from laughter. Harry continued by asking Zayn for which of their band-mates he would go gay for. Zayn answered that one with a cheeky “You!” accompanied by a dramatic hand movement which was aimed to pet Harry's dimpled cheek, but never reached it’s goal, because Zayn lost his balance and fell off his chair.

He landed on the tiled floor hard, and instantly erupted into a roar of laughter, even though he probably wouldn’t be laughing if he knew how much bruises he would find on his skin in the morning. Harry laughed too, and got up to help his friend off of the floor, an action that took a while, seeing as at the moment they were both as coordinated as two chimpanzees on crack.

When they were both in their chairs again, Zayn proclaimed that it was his turn.

“So this is a serious one,” he said, although he was still laughing like crazy, “Are you ready?”

“I was born ready, my friend,” Harry told him.

“Why did you go back to Lou so fucking quickly?”

If Harry was sober he would probably say that he doesn’t hold grudges, or something equally as stupid. But Harry wasn’t sober so he told Zayn the truth.

“I want revenge, mate.”

Zayn obviously thought he was joking, because he exploded into laughter once more. Harry joined him, though he didn’t really know why.

“Revenge,” Zayn managed to choke out, “but no seriously, why?”

“I told you… basically, I just want revenge.”

Zayn stopped laughing now and was instead looking at the Cheshire boy like he just lost his mind.

“I want him to be in pain,” Harry said with a smile, which, matched with his words, made him look like a twisted sociopath. 

“You’ve gone completamente loco, haven’t you?” Zayn said, laughing again because, obviously, everything was funny.

“Probably,” Harry agreed, and took another shot to shut up that small, sober part of him that was telling him he just messed up big time.

 -

The morning was not pretty for either of them. Harry woke up with his mouth dry, head pounding and Louis being a fucking saint and bringing him fucking painkillers and making him feel guilty again for something he shouldn’t feel guilty for.

The morning got even less pretty for him when he remembered (very blurrily, but still) the conversation he had with Zayn last night. He prayed silently that the other boy won’t remember a thing, but the Universe was of course against him, and when Zayn came down for breakfast, he gave Harry a look that undoubtedly told him the black-haired boy remembered everything. Or at least, he remembered enough.

Fortunately he didn’t say anything in front of the other boys, but Harry knew he was going to try and talk to him privately, which he managed to do that afternoon, a little too soon for Harry’s liking. 

Harry didn’t have it in him to deny it, he knew the older boy wouldn’t believe him anyway, so he admitted it and then begged him not to interfere. 

“You cannot ask me to do that” Zayn told him. “He’s my friend too, and yes, what he did was wrong, but I know he loves you.”

Harry tried to protest to that last bit, but Zayn cut him off. “You need to talk it out with him,” he said seriously, “leading him on, and then breaking up with him just to pay him back won’t get you anywhere.”

“It will get me where I want to be.” Harry didn’t know what possessed him to say that, he could have just nodded and agreed and Zayn would have left him alone.

Zayn shook his head, but before he managed to respond, Niall barged in, informing them they need to get dressed for the concert. 

Harry received a  _we’ll talk later_  look from the other boy, before they marched to their dressing room.

-

That night, after the concert, they all decided to go for a drink at a lounge bar pretty close to their hotel. Harry decided that he hadn't driven in way too long, so he and Louis took a rental car, a convertible Audi model.

Harry spent the evening avoiding Zayn’s knowing glances and trying to not let the fact Louis was holding his hand the entire time they were there get to him.

He was doing pretty fine as well, until Louis got a call from Eleanor. Yes, Eleanor, the girl Louis left him for, and the girl Louis recently left for him, was calling him, and the worst part is – he picked up. 

Harry didn’t want to listen to them talk, so he got up, told the boys he was tired and still a little bit hungover from last night, ignored Louis’ “Wait” and “I’ll go with you”, for which he even interrupted the conversation with his precious Eleanor, and headed towards the exit. 

He got in his car hurriedly, wanted to get out of there before anyone stopped him. The air was warm, of course it was, it was a summer in Florida, but it still managed to cool his head and calm him down a bit.

He was driving for only 5 minutes when he started to regret his sudden departure – Louis will surely want to talk about it tomorrow, he’ll probably even start apologizing again, and Harry’s head will probably start aching.

It was late, and the roads were half empty, so Harry enjoyed the ride, even though he still couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he was driving on the wrong side of the street.

After a couple of more minutes, he made a right turn, but before he even managed to put the steering wheel back in it’s position, a strong force pushed him forward, and for a second he felt pain, and then everything went black.

The rest of the boys headed towards the hotel only 10 minutes later, and as they were about to pass a turn only about a mile from their destination, they saw three cars crashed together, surrounded by a force of police cars and ambulance vehicles.

A policeman told their driver to go straight and make a different turn because they cannot pass here, but Louis noticed the car in the middle of the crash and cried out to the driver to pull over. The policemen tried to protest, but Louis was already out of the car and running towards the sight of the accident.

It was only when one of the paramedics moved a little bit to the side that the other boys managed to understand the reason for his reaction, because they saw that one of the injured people, the one surrounded by the largest number of paramedics, who were desperately trying to get him to breathe again, was a familiar curly-haired boy, his head covered in blood.

The three boys who were still in the car felt the air being sucked out of their lungs, they could hardly breathe as they struggled to make sense of what they were seeing. 

But that was nothing compared to what the blue-eyed boy on the street was experiencing – he was fighting the paramedics, trying to reach the boy who was besides him and perfectly healthy only half an hour ago, the weight that had laid itself in his chest, making him feel like he was going to explode right that second if someone didn’t tell him not of it was real, was preventing any words to come out of his mouth, words that he cold use to explain to those people what that boy was to him. Words he could use to explain that he was everything. 

- 

Next morning found the boys seated in Harry’s and Louis’ room, even though they were supposed to be packing for the flight back home.

Zayn was sitting on the sofa next to Niall, both of them tearfully glancing at Louis, who was sitting on the bed, Liam holding him tightly, like Louis was going to fall apart and break into pieces as soon as he removes his arms from his side.

Louis wasn’t crying anymore, after sobbing the whole night he was left with no more tears. Zayn thought that he would rather watch him sob again, because this dead, ghostly look in his eyes was much worse.

He also couldn’t stop thinking about what Harry told him two nights prior, about how he wanted to see Louis in pain. What an example of a sick, twisted irony it all was.

“He wanted revenge,” he said to Niall quietly, not wanting to be the only one who knew this. “That’s why they got back together so quickly, he wanted to break his heart.”

Niall looked at him and formed a painful little smile, while the tears rolled from his eyes.

“Well, his heart is definitely broken.”


End file.
